Surrender
by DBSean
Summary: Catra had imagined a hundred different scenarios in which she defeated Adora and ended the war; following an epic battle, or capturing her and bringing her to Hordak in chains, or even destroying the Sword of Protection. The one scenario she had never so much as considered was that Adora would surrender without a fight. And that made Catra furious.


" **Surrender"**

 **A/N: This one was a doozy. I picked up and put down this story about a dozen times over the last week or so before I finally cracked it. And it's a good thing, too, because I honestly really like it. I hope you guys do, too!**

 **Enjoy!**

Adora had been "missing" for almost a month when Catra finally saw her signal.

It had not escaped the Force Captain's notice that She-Ra hadn't made an appearance in four weeks. As second-in-command to Lord Hordak himself, Catra had eyes and ears throughout all of Etheria, reporting Rebel activity, movement of resources, Horde assault plans, etc. This meant, among other things, that she was one of the first to notice the somewhat odd absence of She-Ra at several of these invasions.

It wasn't that Catra expected Adora to be at every battle; not even the legendary She-Ra could be everywhere at once. In fact, a week passed before Catra even noticed She-Ra's absence, initially chalking it up to good luck for the Horde; after all, the less resistance they faced from the Princess Alliance, the better. But as the days and weeks went on without a single She-Ra sighting, Catra started to wonder just what was going on.

Rumors among the Horde speculated that She-Ra had been grievously wounded in her last skirmish with Force Captain Catra during the Battle of Skydancer Pass, and had perished shortly thereafter, but Catra knew this to be false; their last duel had actually gone well for Adora, and it was Catra who had been forced to flee, sporting a brand-new scar for her trouble.

The mystery of Adora's disappearance bothered Catra more than she liked to admit. She tried to tell herself it was purely for military reasons: it wasn't good to lose track of your opponent, after all. But, if she was being honest, it was also entirely possible that Catra was worried about Adora, perhaps even concerned for her safety.

(Not that she would ever admit such a thing out loud, of course.)

Regardless, it was Adora who Catra had been thinking about when she first saw the signal out in the desert, just a few kilometers outside of the Fright Zone. She had been on her balcony at the time, brow furrowed in thought, having just finished applying ointment to the scar across her face; even after all these weeks, the wound still hadn't fully healed, and it hurt far more than it had any right to. She was looking out over the purple desert, wondering where Adora might have disappeared to and why, when she saw the first beam of light.

At first, Catra thought she had spied an unusually straight lightning strike before realizing the skies were clear, and there wasn't even the hint of a storm. Then she saw the second beam of light, and realized it was something else entirely. Then came a third. Then a fourth.

And then…nothing. Catra blinked, looking around to see if anyone else had seen what she had seen, but she was alone. She looked back out into the desert, and waited.

There! One, two, three, four beams of light shot into the air, one after the other, with only the briefest of pauses in between.

It wasn't lightning; it was a signal. It was _their_ signal. Catra's…and Adora's.

Growing up in the Fright Zone, where friendship was seen only as a weakness, Catra and Adora had devised their own special methods of communicating with each other when they weren't allowed to speak, or simply needed to tell the other they were there. The exact medium used to communicate varied, but the language was always the same: it always came in fours.

Four flashes of light at night to indicate the coast was clear to sneak out of the barracks. Four knocks on the door to let the other know who was there. Four taps on the back to warn of Shadow Weaver's approach. Four squeezes of the hand to ask for reassurance or support.

 _It has to be a trap_ , Catra realized as she looked out into the desert and once again counted four beams of light in quick succession. No doubt devised by Adora herself, a ruse to lure the Horde's second-in-command out of the Fright Zone and into the middle of an ambush. That had to be it.

And yet…Catra was curious. Maybe it wasn't a trap. It _was_ Adora, after all; she had never been any good at subterfuge. Plus, it was in the middle of the desert, so Catra would be able to see any potential trap or ambush coming from a mile away.

Besides…Catra wanted to know where Adora had been for the last few weeks.

 _Curiosity killed the cat_ , she reminded herself just as she made her decision, _but satisfaction brought her back._

Catra found Adora waiting for her atop a lone butte in the middle of the boundless desert, one surrounded by nothing but sand for kilometers around. Content that she hadn't flown all the way into the desert just to be ambushed, Catra landed her skiff right in the middle of the small mesa.

Adora looked just as Catra had last seen her, still wearing her Horde uniform ( _why_ in the world had she not found another outfit by now?) with her blonde hair pulled up and the Sword of Protection in her hand. As Catra exited her craft, however, Adora slowly sheathed the glowing blade, as if to demonstrate she meant no harm.

"I was starting to worry you wouldn't show," Adora said as Catra approached, smiling a little when she noticed how alert Catra was. "Catra, it's okay…this isn't a trap. I promise."

"Which is exactly what someone laying a trap _would_ say," Catra replied, narrowing her eyes carefully as she inspected the rest of the mesa.

"Would it help if I swore on the honor of Grayskull?"

"I don't know who or what that is," Catra pointed out, finally coming to a stop a couple of meters in front of Adora.

"Good point," Adora said with another soft smile. "Neither do I."

"So if this isn't a trap…what _is_ this?" Catra finally asked. "You better not have dragged me all the way out here to try to convince me to defect, because I'll tell you right now that isn't going to happen, Adora. Even if I did choose to leave the Horde – which I _won't_ – it still doesn't mean I want anything to do with your little Princess Alliance."

"I know," Adora responded, nodding sadly. "I'm not here to persuade you to leave the Horde. You say you're staying, and I…I believe that, even if I disagree with it. It's not my decision to make. It's yours. And I need to respect that. No matter how much I don't like it."

 _Wait…what?_

Catra frowned as she listened to Adora speak; it wasn't like her former friend to actually admit she was wrong, and even less unlike her to maintain her composure while doing so. What happened to the sanctimonious princess always trying to appeal to the good in her? What happened to the childhood friend who would do anything to have Catra back in her life again?

Something didn't add up.

"Okay," Catra said, still not entirely convinced. "So why _am_ I here, then?"

She was surprised when Adora blushed lightly in response, almost as if she was suddenly embarrassed to admit the real reason she had brought Catra all the way out to the middle of nowhere.

"I'm sorry," Adora said softly, frowning a little to herself. "It's just…I have something very important I have to say. Something I have to tell you. And I had it all planned out in my head, but now that you're here…I'm having a hard time actually saying it."

"What, are you surrendering, or something?" Catra asked jokingly.

"Well…yes."

 _Wait…_ _ **what?!**_

As Catra watched in shock, Adora slowly drew the legendary Sword of Protection from its sheath, took one last, long look at it…and then fell to one knee. Bowing her head respectfully, she held the sword up with both hands, as though offering it to Catra, a sign of her surrender.

Adora, wielder of the Sword of Protection, bearer of the mantle of She-Ra, leader of the Princess Alliance, and Hero of the Rebellion…was officially surrendering.

 _ **WHAT?!**_

"What…what is this?" Catra asked once she found herself able to talk at all, her voice oddly soft all of a sudden. "What are you doing, Adora?"

"I'm surrendering," Adora answered without looking up.

"I can _see_ that!" Catra exclaimed angrily. She found herself looking around again, trying to spot some clue or detail she had missed before. "You're up to something. You have to be. There's no way you would just surrender to the Horde, not after everything that's happened."

"Technically…I'm not surrendering to the Horde," Adora clarified after a few seconds of thought. "I'm surrendering to you, personally."

For a moment, there was silence. Then Adora looked up at Catra with her eyes open and wide, as though daring the Force Captain to search for any indication of falsehood or foul play in her actions. Catra, on the other hand, found herself stuck between Adora and her skiff, not sure what she was hearing or whether or not to believe it.

 _She's telling the truth_ , Catra realized as she looked into Adora's eyes and saw there the determination and honesty she was so used to seeing in the eyes of the legendary She-Ra.

"Why?" Catra asked. "Why are you doing this?"

"I wish I could say it was to save the world or turn the tide of the war," Adora admitted, bowing her head again in shame as she did so, "but if I'm being honest…it's because I can't fight you anymore, Catra. I _won't_ fight you. Not ever again."

Catra frowned. "What are you talking about, Adora?"

"I'm saying that I care about you more than I care about being She-Ra," Adora said, once again making eye contact with Catra and revealing there were tears gleaming in her eyes. "I'm saying that I would rather live the rest of my life as a prisoner of the Horde than ever hurt you again."

Again, silence reigned. Catra knew this had to be the hardest thing Adora had ever done in her entire life, even harder than leaving the Horde in the first place. To give up her new life, her new home, her destiny as She-Ra. No wonder Adora had disappeared for so long; how much time must she have spent going over all of this in her head before finally making such a decision?

This could mean the end of the Princess Alliance, Catra realized, even the end of the Rebellion. It could assure victory for the Horde. With She-Ra gone, Hordak could rally his forces and march on Bright Moon once and for all. Adora surrendering was everything Catra could have hoped for as second-in-command of the Horde.

So, then…why did the thought of accepting Adora's surrender fill her with such a sense of _rage_?

"Why now?" Catra finally asked, still eyeing Adora warily. "You could have left the Rebellion whenever you wanted. Why surrender _now_?"

"Because of what I did the last time we fought," Adora said softly. She still held the Sword of Protection, her arms as steady as her resolve.

"What you did…?" Catra asked, momentarily confused.

That's when it hit Catra: _the scar_. Adora was talking about the scar, the one she had given Catra back at Skydancer Pass. Almost absentmindedly, Catra reached up and traced the diagonal scar that extended from just above her right eye to her left cheek, a permanent reminder of She-Ra's strength and fury.

"I realized a while ago that whenever I fight you – when I'm She-Ra – I hold back," Adora began to explain. She stood up as she spoke, finally lowering the Sword of Protection upon realizing Catra wasn't going to accept her surrender without a worthy explanation. "I'm sorry if that wounds your pride, but…it's true. I just can't see you as an enemy, Catra. At the end of the day, you're always going to be my friend. So, no matter how hard I try, no matter how hard I may want to, I find myself holding back. Because…because I still don't want to hurt you."

"But last time…?" Catra urged her to go on impatiently.

"Last time…I finally lost control," Adora admitted. She turned to look away from Catra and out over the desert as she spoke, as if too ashamed to meet her friend's gaze. "I don't know what happened. Maybe I was tired, or frustrated. But it doesn't matter. What matters is that I gave in. I forgot who I was fighting and I just…let loose. For a moment, I wasn't holding anything back."

Catra remembered, though it had been almost a month since the event occurred. It had been the turning point for a battle that had previously been going poorly for the Rebellion, one that allowed them to turn the tide of war and push the Horde back through Skydancer Pass. One moment, the Horde looked moments from victory, about to claim the pass and take control of all Skydancer Mountain…the next, a flash of rainbow light had blinded them all and renewed the strength of the Rebellion, enough to drive back the Horde and force them into a hasty retreat.

Catra had been fighting She-Ra at the time, as was so often the case when the two of them met on the battlefield, and she had been doing well; the rocky and mountainous terrain was conducive to Catra's speed and agility, granting her favor over the stronger but less graceful She-Ra. She had just thrown the Princess of Power clear through a boulder and was closing in to finish the conflict when it happened.

A burst of light brighter than anything Catra had ever seen exploded from She-Ra's form, and with such force that it threw her backwards and off-balance. By the time the light faded and Catra's ultrasensitive eyes had finally begun to adjust, She-Ra had emerged renewed, brighter and more powerful than ever before. Catra had just enough time to leap out of the way before the legendary warrior was upon her, the Sword of Protection slicing through the air before her like a knife through butter.

Catra dodged each of the next swings as quickly as she could, taking careful note of how the sword slashed through earth and rock alike, how each strike of the blade tore apart the surrounding environment. There was something different about She-Ra, something deadlier and more dangerous, as though she had ascended to a higher state of being, a perfect warrior with the strength of a hundred men and women. It was as if she was a different person entirely.

 _She was_ , Catra realized now, still lightly fingering the scar on her face. _I wasn't fighting Adora anymore; I was fighting_ _ **She-Ra.**_ _Adora was…gone._

All it had taken was a single misstep before Catra felt the cold sting of She-Ra's blade slash across her face, digging deep and drawing enough blood that it temporarily blinded her. The rest of the Horde was already in retreat by that point, and Catra took advantage of that fact by following suit. One moment, She-Ra was standing above her, eyes full of rage and sword gleaming with blood; the next, Catra has halfway across the canyon, simultaneously leading her troops out of Skydancer Pass and trying to stop the bleeding.

Now Catra realized it hadn't been luck or speed that allowed her to escape that day. It had been Adora. She had _let_ Catra escape. Even consumed as she was by the entity known as She-Ra, there had been just enough of Adora left within to spare her former friend's life.

"I lost control," Adora reiterated back on the butte in the middle of the desert, still unable to face Catra out of shame. "It was like I didn't even recognize you anymore. You were just another obstacle I had to overcome, another enemy I had to defeat. I forgot who you were, and because of that…I hurt you. I hurt you worse than I ever have before."

"Not as much as you hurt me when you _left_ ," Catra countered coldly.

"I could have killed you!" Adora exclaimed angrily, finally looking Catra in the eye once again and inadvertently revealing the tears staining her cheeks. "You don't understand, Catra. I came so close. Too close. I never want to be that close ever again. It's bad enough that I hurt you. If I had gone any farther – if I had _killed_ you – I would never be able to forgive myself."

With that, Adora looked away again, wiping the tears from her face as she fought to compose herself. Catra merely held her ground, waiting for Adora to continue; she had risked a lot coming out here all on her own, and she didn't intend on leaving without at least an explanation.

"I left Bright Moon a couple days after the battle," Adora finally said. Her voice was much steadier, but she still hadn't turned around to face Catra. "I was afraid. Afraid of what I had almost done. Afraid of what I _had_ done. Afraid of what I _knew_ I was capable of. So I left."

"You're really good at that," Catra commented snidely. "Where did you go?"

"Went to the Whispering Woods first…where I found the sword" Adora said, ignoring Catra's barb no matter how much it stung. "After that…wherever I felt like. I just needed time. Time to think about the war, time to think about She-Ra. Time to think about what mattered most. Time to think about…you and me."

Catra watched carefully as Adora finally turned back around, her composure recovered but with a deep, dark sadness still in her eyes. When Adora looked upon her, Catra had the distinct feeling that she was looking into her very soul, as though she was searching for any remnants of the friend she had left behind.

"I thought about us," Adora specified. "More than anything else, I thought about you and me. About our time in the Fright Zone, how I left you, how we've done nothing but fight for so long now. And…and that's when I realized it."

Catra frowned, still waiting for Adora to finish her statement. "Realized _what_?"

"I realized I'm in love with you."

Catra's eyes widened, and she felt her heart plunge into her stomach. "What did you say?"

"I said I'm in love with you," Adora repeated, softly but confidently, as though it was the only thing in the world she knew for sure. "I think I always have been."

 _She's lying_ , Catra told herself even as every one of her instincts indicated otherwise. The way Adora spoke, the look in her eyes, even her posture; Catra knew them all, would have recognized every aspect of her body language no matter what situation they were in. They'd grown up together, slept together, done everything together. If there was one thing Catra knew, it was Adora.

Or, at least…she used to.

"That's why I'm surrendering," Adora finally concluded. "Because I love you more, Catra. More than Bright Moon, more than the Rebellion, more than being She-Ra. I'm surrendering because I love you more than I will ever love Etheria."

With that, Adora once again dropped down to one knee and held out the Sword of Protection, head bowed respectfully. A thousand conflicting emotions battled for supremacy in Catra's mind as she looked upon her friend, bowed and offering her legendary weapon. It was a sight Catra never thought she would see, not if she lived to be a thousand years old. It simply didn't make any sense.

Adora was surrendering. _Adora_ was _surrendering_.

Catra had imagined a hundred different scenarios in which she defeated Adora and ended the war; following an epic battle, or capturing her and bringing her to Hordak in chains, or even destroying the Sword of Protection, if such a thing was even possible. The one scenario she had never so much as _considered_ was that Adora would surrender without a fight.

And that made Catra _furious_.

"I don't accept," she said at last, breaking the silence between them. Her expression was stern and strict, but she was well aware of the rage bubbling just beneath the surface.

Adora looked up, frowning in confusion. "What? But…I'm surrendering."

"I know, and I said I don't accept," Catra repeated, her tone growing sterner and more impatient. "Now take your stupid sword and go home before I change my mind."

"But I'm _surrendering_!" Adora said again, as though repeating her statement would somehow convince Catra to listen. "Didn't you listen to a thing I said?"

"I heard every word," Catra hissed angrily. "I just don't care. Now _take_ your sword and _go_ while you still can."

For a moment, the two former friends stared at one another, as though challenging the other to make a move. Adora stood up as she stared into Catra's eyes, still holding the Sword of Protection in one hand. Catra, on the other hand, merely glared right back at Adora, both of her hands clenching into angry fists.

"No," Adora finally said, softly but firmly. She lifted the Sword of Protection up, pointing the tip of the blade directly at Catra…and then let go, dropping it to the ground.

Catra had never felt angrier in her entire life.

"Pick up the sword," she said through gritted teeth, her fists shaking at her sides.

"No," Adora responded simply.

"Pick up the sword, Adora!" Catra exclaimed as she took a menacing step forward, her claws

"No," Adora said again.

"PICK UP THE DAMN SWORD!" Catra shouted angrily, loud enough she was certain people could hear her all the way back in the Fright Zone.

She could feel her heart pounding in her chest and her breath coming in short bursts. She could feel the anger and the hate tearing her up inside, gripping her heart and tightening her stomach. The blood in her veins was on fire; she knew what was coming, what she was about to do, and she almost feared it.

But Adora simply stared right back at her, face as set and determined as always, and said exactly what Catra feared she would say.

"No."

If Adora saw Catra's attack coming, she showed no sign of it; instead, she merely grunted in pain as Catra lunged at her with all the fury of a jungle cat, throwing her off her feet and knocking her to the ground. Then she was defending herself as best she could without actually fighting back, holding her arms and hands out in front of her as Catra clawed at her wildly.

"This isn't how it's supposed to go!" Catra screamed as she attacked her former friend, tears in her eyes and rage in her voice. "You don't get to surrender! You hear me? You don't get to! Not after what you did to the Horde! Not after what you did to _me_! You left me! You betrayed me! You _broke_ my _heart_!"

She was little more than a feral animal, her cries like the roars of a wounded tigress.

"What were you expecting, Adora?" she went on, still howling with rage as Adora tried to throw her off, her arms and hands already covered in claw marks deep enough to draw blood. "You want me to just take you to Hordak so he can kill you, is that it? Just end it all? You _coward_!"

Catra could hear Adora crying out beneath her, but she couldn't stop, couldn't even think about anything other than the pain and the heartbreak and the pure, unadulterated _rage_. Months of longing and confusion and agonizing doubt poured out of her through her claws, and she took all of it out on the one who had caused it all.

"You're supposed to go down fighting!" Catra exclaimed, vision blurring as hot tears streamed down her cheeks. "You go down fighting me! Just you and me, that's how it's _meant_ to be! It's always been you and me! You fight to your last and I _beat_ you, once and for all! I beat you, I prove I'm better than you, and I lead the Horde to victory! You've taken everything from me, Adora! But I won't let you take away my victory!"

She was just about to continue her assault when Adora finally spoke. Her voice was low, and soft, and raspy, as much from despair as it was from the pain.

"Then do it."

Catra paused as the words sank in, and she slowly began to feel herself awakening from the red rage that had consumed her. She froze where she was, her right hand still raised and her claws extended to their greatest and sharpest degree.

For the first time since she had attacked Adora, Catra took the opportunity to actually look at what she had done, and what she saw filled her with horror.

Adora lay beneath her, crying and bleeding from a dozen claw marks all over her arms, hands, shoulders, chest, and face. Her jacket had been torn to shreds, her white shirt was stained red with freshly spilt blood, and there wasn't an inch of exposed skin that didn't bear one of Catra's claw marks. She was crying, but it wasn't from the pain or the blood; it was anguish, Catra could tell, deep and pure.

"Do it," Adora said again, looking up into Catra's eyes and practically pleading. Tears flooded her eyes as she spoke, and her lip was cut and bleeding. "You have to…because I can't. I won't hurt you again. So, please…do it. Please, Catra. I don't want to hurt anymore."

 _I don't want to hurt anymore_.

"No…" Catra whispered, breath suddenly catching in her lungs.

 _I don't want to hurt anymore._

"No, no, no…" she said again and again, her eyes widening and shaking painfully. Her raised hand was shaking now, as if uncertain whether to deliver the final strike…or not.

 _I don't want to hurt anymore._

"NO!"

It came out half as a scream and half as a sob as Catra threw herself backwards off of Adora, landing on her rear on the rocky surface of the butte. She could feel her arms and legs shaking, feel the blood on her hands and the tears in her eyes, feel her breath hitching as she the sobs came one right after another, with no time in between for her to recover.

 _What am I doing?_ , she thought to herself again and again. _What am I doing? Is this what I want? Is this what I'm supposed to want? So close. I came so close. Too close._

 _Too close to what? Isn't this what I want? To beat Adora?_

 _No! I don't want this! I never wanted this!_

 _This is all I ever wanted._

 _I can't do it! I won't do it!_

 _Why not? What's stopping me? Why can't I do this?!_

 _Because I love her! I always have!_

"STOP IT!" Catra screamed to everyone and to no one. She keeled over, head in her hands, claws digging into her own scalp hard enough to draw blood. "No more! No more, no more, no more…"

And then she was crying, and no more words came. Pain, hatred, misery, despair, hopelessness, ruthlessness, all of it leaked out of her in the form of a thousand searing hot tears. Blood – Adora's blood – smeared on her hands and face, only making her cry harder as she remembered she was the one who drew it.

Just as Catra began to fear she wouldn't survive her own catharsis, that her mind and body would simply snap under the pressure of her sorrow, she some wrap their arms around her protectively. She opened her teary eyes and looked up to find Adora – Adora, of all people, the one she loved, the one she hated, the one she had come _so close_ to killing – holding her, embracing her, gripping her so tightly it seemed as though she never wanted to let go.

Without another spoken word, without their eyes even meeting, Catra threw her own arms around Adora and simply gave in to the tears, burying her face in Adora's chest and hugging her as tightly as she possibly could. Adora hugged back just as tightly, holding Catra close and crying as well, if softer and more gently. Blood and tears met and mixed, but neither cared so long as they had the other in their arms.

"I'm sorry," Catra said, her face still buried in Adora's chest. "I'm so sorry."

"Me, too," Adora responded softly, trying (and failing) to fight her own tears. "For everything."

Neither knew for how long they cried; it could have been mere minutes or entire hours, and neither would have known the difference. There was so much to let go, so much to release, and there was no stopping it now. Suffice it to say, by the time the tears stopped coming and their breathing was almost regular again, both were exhausted both physically and emotionally.

"You broke my heart when you left," Catra finally said, breaking the silence. She continued to hold on to Adora for dear life as she spoke, her face pressed to her chest. "All this time, I thought I wanted to beat you, to show you I'm _better_ than you, to show I'm better _without_ you. But I'm not. I don't know what I want anymore."

"I know what I want," Adora responded after a moment, looking down and brushing aside some of Catra's hair, causing the latter to look up at her with bloodshot eyes still glistening with tears.

"What?" Catra asked, looking into Adora's blue eyes as though they carried all the answers she needed.

"You," Adora told her, smiling sadly as she did so. "More than anything, Catra. I want _you_."

Their lips met seconds later, with Catra simply pushing herself into Adora, catching the warrior's lips with her own in what would be their first kiss. Adora responded immediately and enthusiastically, holding Catra close and refusing to let go or loosen her grip throughout the duration of the kiss.

It was like kissing fire and ice at the same time, Catra thought to herself as she lost herself in Adora. She felt Adora's burning passion and calming presence, her electric personality and kind soul, her youthful innocence and world-weary wisdom. It was everything she could have wanted.

When they finally separated and opened their eyes, it was with a calm and peace that neither had experienced for months, if not years. Both knew it was their first kiss, but not their last. It was a promise, a new one, one that neither would ever break.

"So…accept my surrender?" Adora finally asked, a small smile on her lips.

"Only if you'll accept mine," Catra responded, smiling sadly back.

Neither Catra nor Adora knew what would come next. Did Adora return to Bright Moon? Did Catra return to the Fright Zone? Would they leave separately, knowing they would inevitably find each other again, or leave together, hand-in-hand, their futures intertwined? Neither knew, and yet, right then and there, neither was particularly concerned. As Catra would say, that was a problem for _future_ Catra and Adora.

They didn't know what surprises the future held; they knew only that they had each other.

That was all that mattered.

 **A/N: Comments and reviews welcomed, as always! And thanks for reading!**


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